


Salt and Sugar

by xypeilo



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Peter's an asshole but he'll get better, Romance, Wade before he lost his hair
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 06:04:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7746007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xypeilo/pseuds/xypeilo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter's an asshole and everyone's afraid of him at work. Of course he didn't mean for things to turn out this way...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salt and Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> My co-worker has a corgi mix and he keeps running into my office off leash so I thought this would be a great fic.

It was just another shitty day with the same shit. The fact that Peter had just broken up with his girlfriend recently made everything even more oh-so fantastic. It was a two year relationship going smoother than a baby’s bottom until she left because he wasn’t giving her enough attention--and as much as he cared for her, he had to work for god’s sake. He can’t be there all the time. Even when she was breaking up with him, he was too tired to react. Work was important. Making money mattered. Have you seen the gas prices? Sure it’s nice to relax once in awhile--he’s not a workaholic. He’s _broke_. And the last thing he needs is someone to bring him down over their petty drama while his boss is breathing down his neck. So he’s the bad guy.

The day was nearly over--Peter had thirty minutes left to be able to clock out. He would’ve clocked out thirty minutes earlier if he didn’t have a mandatory unpaid thirty minute break, which was absolute bullshit because even during his break he’s working and eating at the same time. The break room gets too crowded during typical lunch hours and he can’t stand small talk. He absolutely hated conferences (but that’s a given because who doesn’t) and whenever someone tries to talk to them he gives them the shortest of short answers which is simply, “no”. With that reputation, people learned to leave him alone and warn others about him. _Don’t fuck with Peter Parker._

Ten minutes left and time drags slower than ever. He’d start on his next project if he could, but his eyes were too sore and he was starting to see doubles from staring at a screen for too long. He leaned back against his chair and closed his eyes while pinching the bridge of his nose. He took off his glasses and rubbed his face with his palms. Ten minutes. He had ten minutes.

“Charlie, wait!” Peter’s heavy eyelids flickered open just slightly and he glanced at his half open office door. Within seconds, a blurry brown and white fluff of god-knows-what came waddling into his office excitedly. It crashed into his legs and playfully nipped at him. Peter jolted forward and put his glasses back on, finding a chubby corgi smiling right at him. Before he could think, a man appeared by the door completely out of breath.

Peter looked up at the blonde, clearly irritated. “Is this yours?”

Flinching at his harsh tone, the blonde hastily nodded and rambled a series of apologies as he grabbed his dog’s collar. “S-So sorry. Really. Won’t happen again.”

“I don’t think we’re allowed to have pets here, man.” Peter wiped off the dog hair with a disgusted look. “Jesus…”

“She’s my therapy dog.”

Peter looked back at the blonde who was too afraid to make eye contact--he was probably warned about Peter. He didn’t mean for people to be scared of him. If they wanted to talk about anything that was unrelated to work, he was simply uninterested. He didn’t want to form relationships with people at work because it was distracting. But he was clearly seen as someone to be feared than as someone who simply hated being bothered at work. At home--he’s a completely different person. A total kid, as aunt May would describe him. Because there’s a time and there’s a place to display a certain face, she’d say.

Feeling bad for snapping at him, Peter attempted to smile. “Oh, sorry about that. It’s fine--uh, how old is she?”

“She’s three.” The blonde would make eye contact for a brief second and then look away.

“She’s cute.” Peter said. The corgi charged after him but her owner had the leash short. “I’ve never seen you before, are you new?”

“No I’ve been working here for five years.”

“Oh. Well I’m Peter--”

“Yeah, I know who you are. Um, I gotta go. Sorry about my dog.” Before Peter could ask his name, he bolted out the door.

 _Great_ , Peter thought. _Are people_ that _afraid of me?_ Peter ran his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily. He looked at the clock and dropped his head on his desk. Five more minutes.


End file.
